


It Really Builds

by aliciameade



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Friends to Lovers, Lesbian Sex, Post-Pitch Perfect 3, Roommates, Showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:33:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23336944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliciameade/pseuds/aliciameade
Summary: Post PP3. They were roommates. (They were not quarantined.) Chloe likes to try new bath and body products. She leaves them in the shower for Beca to try. Beca’s not sure Chloe meant to leave one particular product behind labeled “pleasure balm.”
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 26
Kudos: 314





	It Really Builds

* * *

“Dude, seriously?” Beca laughs to herself. She’d reached somewhat distractedly for her conditioner. Her mind was trying to work out a hook for a new song she’d been sent; the song was terrible but she knew she could strip it down to nothing and build it back up into something good.

She stares at the compact green bottle she’s retrieved. It is not the blue bottle of conditioner she’d intended to grab. It’s unfamiliar and definitely not hers. Chloe always has new bath and body products in the shower. She loves trying the latest fad and there’s not a week that goes by that there’s not some new type of scrub, oil, cleanser, purifier, or detoxifier crammed onto one of the overflowing shelves of the shower they share.

(Beca’s still trying to get rid of the stain caused by a particularly potent bath bomb.) 

Sometimes Beca tries them out of curiosity; it’s hard to pass up promises of smaller pores or glowing skin.

She’s about to flip the cap on this one after noticing something about it being spearmint and assuming it’s meant to revitalize her face when she does a double-take to actually read the packaging.

_Kama Sutra Pleasure Balm_

Beca’s not an idiot. Nor is she a prude. She doesn’t have to guess what its purpose is or how it’s used, though she’s never tried it before.

She’s also not surprised Chloe has such a thing. She is, however, amused that she left it in the shower.

And since Beca is not an idiot, she quickly realizes that meant Chloe was using it in the shower at some point between yesterday and today because she doesn’t recall seeing the distinct emerald green bottle when she showered yesterday.

That thought does a few things to her. It makes her blush, it makes her drop the bottle to the bathtub floor, and it turns her on.

She hates herself a little bit for that. Whatever she and Chloe are (they are _friends_ ), she knows it’s not cool to get aroused by thoughts of her doing...whatever she was choosing to do with her pleasure balm.

(Beca has a pretty good idea.)

Angry at herself, she grabs the conditioner and works it through her hair, glaring at the bottle sitting on top of the drain by her feet which has sparked all kinds of thoughts in her mind.

Unfortunately, she has nothing else to occupy herself with as she waits the recommended three minutes for her conditioner to do whatever it does and finally stoops to retrieve it and put it back on the shelf where she found it.

Except instead of putting it back, she’s turning the bottle over to read instructions about dabbing it on pleasure points to let the fun begin. 

And she knows, _she knows_ curiosity killed the cat, but she can’t help it. Thoughts of Chloe touching herself right where Beca stands now have consumed her, fogged up her rational brain with a need to seek her own relief.

And if it works for Chloe, it makes her want to try it all the more.

“Whatever,” she says and flips the cap open to put a dab of clear gel, the scent of mint immediately filling the steamy shower, on her fingertip before she returns it to the shelf.

She doesn’t have to be a scientist to figure out what will probably be the most interesting place to put it. She slips her fingers between her legs to brush it over and around her clit and rinses off her hands. 

She had expected an instantaneous reaction but there’s little more than a faint tingling sensation. Disappointing, really.

Instead of waiting it out, she gives up and rinses the conditioner out of her hair. The moment has passed and she feels kind of dumb and a little wrong for using something so personal of her roommate’s.

Shame creeping up the back of her neck she hops out of the shower, works a towel through her hair until it’s no longer dripping, and wraps her favorite fresh, fluffy one around her body.

She’s two steps away from her room when the product decides to kick in.

“Oh, fuck,” she says, actually tripping and slamming her shoulder into the door frame as she tries to hurry into her room. It makes her curse again which gets Chloe’s attention, head popping out from her room across from Beca’s.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” she says, not noticing how breathless she is until she hears herself. It’s not a faint tingle anymore; it’s a full-on sensory assault. She might as well have an ice cube between her legs. She’d slam the door if she could remember how to use her limbs.

“Are you sure?” Chloe’s voice is getting closer and it’s laced with genuine worry. Beca knows what comes next: Chloe touching her out of concern.

She hisses when Chloe’s hand touches right between her bare shoulder blades. Every inch of her feels like it’s on fire and also in an ice bath. 

Beca has many regrets right now. Such as her inappropriate curiosity. Her underestimation of what had appeared to be a relatively innocuous substance. Not keeping her shit together long enough so she could make it into her room and lock the door and do...whatever it was going to take to answer the demands her body’s suddenly making. The fact that when she’s turned on, her mouth and the rational part of her brain don’t always communicate.

“Dude, what the fuck with that Kama Sutra shit in the shower?”

She realizes she says the words but doesn’t have the capacity to try to take them back.

Chloe’s hand disappears and there’s a muffled sound behind her; she doesn’t have to turn around to know that Chloe’s covering her mouth in an attempt to not laugh. “Oh, my God, Bec.” She drops her hand away, voice clear once again. “Did you use it?”

“Shut up,” Beca growls, spinning around, half-embarrassed, half-generally confused as to why she’s not kicking Chloe out right now. She’s managed to stumble at least a couple of steps into her room. She could slam the door in her face if she wanted to.

Chloe’s laugh is even louder this time. “Your face is, like, beet red. Did you not know what it was?”

“I knew what it was,” Beca bites.

Chloe’s eyebrows raise at that and Beca can’t help but notice Chloe kind of eyes her up and down. “It’s on you right now?”

“No, I’m just generally this horny when I get out of the shower.” Her own eyes go wide at her admission but she still can’t manage to rescind her words.

Chloe’s entire demeanor seems to shift. Even her voice is different. Quieter. “Where did you use it?”

“Where do you think?” Beca has to shift her stance. It’s like the evil fucking gel is listening to their conversation and choosing to amp up its intensity based on what’s being said. However, the shift, minor as it is, feels like ice water pouring between her legs and her entire body shudders.

It’s obvious Chloe notices; her teeth suddenly snag her bottom lip and she looks at Beca in a way Beca’s not unfamiliar with. She’s seen Chloe look that way at other people before kissing them.

“How is it?” Chloe asks, voice still quiet. She takes a tentative step forward with the question and alarm bells sound in Beca’s brain but she doesn’t know what to do about them.

“Intense,” she manages to squeak. It’s almost starting to burn which is a new, not unwelcome sensation.

“It helps if you touch it.”

Beca should probably be surprised Chloe would have masturbation recommendations for her but she’s really not. “Yeah, well...there’s the door,” she says with a jutting of her chin in that direction.

“Yeah,” Chloe says absently, still moving closer step by step until Beca has to take a step backward that does not go ignored by what’s happening between her legs. 

A whimper escapes her lips and she immediately clenches her jaw.

“I can show you.”

Beca just stares. Because Chloe seems to have just offered to put Beca out of her misery.

“If it’s okay with you,” Chloe continues, still moving forward until Beca’s legs hit the edge of her bed.

She doesn’t sit; she’s not sure what will happen if she does. Spontaneously combust, probably. “Um…” _Say yes. Just say yes, dummy._

Chloe’s eyes feel hot when they meet Beca’s. “Because I’d like to show you.”

Another shiver chooses that moment to zing through her, right when she opens her mouth, and her, “Okay,” comes out more like a moan than anything.

The way Chloe steps into her space, Beca fully expects to be kissed. She even keeps her lips parted and wets them, only for Chloe to stop short of that. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

Beca nods dumbly; she knows she’s not going to tell Chloe to stop whatever is about to happen.

She feels the graze of fingertips on her inner thigh, higher than the edge of her towel, and her knees nearly give out. It shouldn’t feel that good, not there, but every inch of her is on edge, every nerve on high-alert, and a hand flies out, unthinking, to grab and hold on to Chloe’s shoulder.

“You weren’t kidding,” Chloe murmurs with a soft smile, mostly to herself it seems. Beca doesn’t really respond. She can’t. Not when Chloe’s fingers are traveling up her thigh. Chloe, her friend since she was 18. Chloe, her friend with whom she’s been through thick and thin. Chloe, the woman she’s lived with, in some arrangement or another, for nearly eight years. Chloe, the person she’s been in love with for as long as she’s known her.

She has to close her eyes; it’s too much to watch Chloe watching her for reactions and Chloe’s fingers are dangerously close to intimate territory.

Beca hadn’t bargained on her body being as aroused as it is, though, and that arousal and the incessant, subconscious clenching of her thighs has traveled beyond the source. She feels Chloe’s fingers find and slip through slickness sooner than she had expected.

“Oh, Beca…” Chloe sighs and Beca feels her move closer. She doesn’t dare open her eyes to look but she can sense her, can feel the warmth radiating from her body and her breath against her own lips. Her fingers’ advance pauses, though, and she feels her moving slowly back and forth along the wet patch on her right thigh. “Are you sure?”

She knows she should say something more like, ‘yes,’ but what comes out instead is, “Please.”

Chloe’s exhale is sudden. There’s so much unspoken communication with it that it makes Beca’s head spin more than it already is. “Okay,” she says and Beca feels the word against her lips. “I’m going to touch you.”

The words ‘you already are’ flit through Beca’s mind but they don’t make it any further. Her fingers dig into Chloe’s shoulder in anticipation and though Chloe isn’t really teasing her, it still feels like it takes a year and a half for something to happen.

When it does, when Chloe’s fingertip grazes Beca’s clit, Beca can’t breathe.

In a more normal circumstance, she’s sure she wouldn’t have been able to breathe, either.

But this...when her body is on fire from _whatever_ that balm was already doing to her…

The word, “Fuck” forms and dies on her lips and her hips tilt [somewhat embarrassingly if she cared; she doesn’t] forward.

She hears what sounds like a moan, but it came from Chloe. It makes her hips buck again, already seconds from coming, and she feels Chloe’s touch disappear.

“No, don’t,” she whines. Pathetic. She’s totally pathetic.

Chloe shushes her and she can hear the way she’s chuckling through it. “Sit down.”

The concept of sitting, of putting so much pressure and so many contact points around the part of her body that is screaming so loudly that it’s deafening, scares her and her entire body stiffens.

“Beca,” Chloe repeats, actually laughing this time, “just sit down.” She actually pushes Beca and with the bed already flush against her calves, Beca has nowhere to go but down.

As expected, it’s a rush of stimulation that makes her shudder and forces her to grit her teeth because she’s definitely on the precipice of orgasm, and it just seems like way too soon for that. She’s not even sure she wants to orgasm with Chloe.

(Kidding. She 150% wants to orgasm with Chloe. It’s just not something she thought she’d be doing when she woke up today.)

“Can I show you what I like?” Chloe asks as she nudges Beca’s knees apart with her own. Her eyes linger particularly long on Beca, but not on her face, and Beca glances down in concern to notice her towel is just sitting limply around her waist and in her lap.

It must have fallen when she sat; she hadn’t been thinking about babysitting her towel. She grabs for it immediately, meaning to cover up her nudity, but Chloe’s hand stops her from reaching it.

  
“Don’t,” Chloe says as she starts to kneel. It makes Beca’s mouth go dry. “I like seeing you.”

Beca swallows and lets her hands rest on the bed and tries to not pass out.

“So, can I show you?”

“Um,” Beca has to clear her throat to get her voice to work. “Okay.”

Chloe smiles up at her; it would be innocent if not for what was happening right now. “Awes.” She nudges Beca’s legs wider to accommodate the width of her shoulders and glances up at Beca after a few seconds. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she manages, not sure where the strength or brain power came from. Maybe the adrenaline that’s kicking in from being naked on a bed with Chloe on her knees in front of her asking to show her something she likes.

Chloe just giggles (such a pretty sound), and Beca feels hands run up her legs from her ankles to her calves to her knees to her thighs which Beca feels not unpleasant twinges of a stretch in as Chloe eases them wider still; it forces her to put her hands behind herself to prop herself up.

She watches until it’s too much. She closes her eyes and waits. She feels the soft touch of lips against her thigh and a moan escapes her, though the moan turns into a groan when a gentle stream of air blows across her throbbing, tingling, aching clit.

“Oh, holy shit,” she says when it subsides.

Chloe’s voice sounds smug. “Told you.”

Then another stream of air, this one lighter but it lasts longer and Beca’s entire body tries to arch into it.

“Lay back,” Chloe says, her voice sounding oddly unsteady. Beca does as she’s told, though, and lets herself fall backward to lie down as she feels her legs being lifted and shifted until she realizes they’ve been put over Chloe’s shoulders.

“Fuck,” she whines as her shoulders dig into the mattress and her heels into Chloe’s back to try to push herself closer as more air flows over her. It’s broken now, rhythmic little puffs of air that start her hips rocking to match the beat.

There’s a quiet moan from Chloe. Then, “Do you like it?”

“Yes. Fuck,” she adds with another groan when she feels Chloe’s words float over her. Because her mouth is that close to her cunt. It’s so close that she can feel Chloe’s breath on her clit when she speaks. The thought sends her hand flying down and into Chloe’s hair; she’s fantasized about this so many times and needs to feel her there. Needs to anchor herself. “Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t.” The words are breathed hotly over her and Beca knows it was done with purpose. 

It makes her hips jerk hard and then cool air returns, unpredictable patterns that drive her arousal higher and higher until she doesn’t think it’s possible to be any more turned on without coming. Without even being touched. She’s fighting it, waiting for something and she doesn’t realize what it is until, on instinct, she tugs on Chloe’s hair and hears her moan just as the tip of a tongue grazes her clit.

Beca would swear if she could but instead, she just groans and presses her hips up and tries to pull Chloe closer.

She knows Chloe’s being gentle on purpose; she would probably explode if there was any vigorous contact with her right now, but the way Chloe’s so delicately lapping at her aching clit makes her want to beg to be taken so much more roughly than what is happening.

But Chloe _is_ taking her.

Beca’s voice is unholy; every touch of Chloe’s tongue to her flesh makes her body try to leap out of itself. The hand not tangled in Chloe’s hair fists in the quilt beneath her.

She must say or do something that tells Chloe how close she is because she hears Chloe saying, “Yes,” over and over again, though the word is distorted because her tongue doesn’t leave Beca’s clit.

When she comes, the world around her shatters.

She feels it in her brain, in her hands, in her feet, in her thighs and stomach and breasts but nowhere more so than between her legs where Chloe’s lips are touching her so, so softly despite how wildly her body is bucking. She hears it, too. Hears the way she sounds. Desperate and wanton and being released from agony. She hears Chloe, too, moaning with every breath she takes, and hearing it only draws out what already felt impossibly long.

She goes limp when it finally passes, fingers retreating from Chloe’s hair so she can use both hands to cover her face and muffle the delirious laugh that explodes from her.

“You’re laughing?” echoes up to her and she feels Chloe moving her legs off her shoulders so they hang freely again. 

It only makes her laugh harder; it’s all too much. What just happened. The entire scenario. The massive orgasm that Chloe’s mouth had just given her.

She feels the bed dip and move after several seconds and then feels the warmth of bare skin pressing against her own, thigh to arm, and a hand drags one of her own down from her face.

It’s Chloe, of course. Chloe who, with one quick glance to confirm, has stripped herself naked and gotten into bed with Beca. Chloe whose face is flushed and eyes are dark and hair is mussed and who looks ready to quite literally devour [again] her at any second (she would let her. She would sooooo let her.)

“What’s so funny?” Chloe asks with a smile as she pulls Beca’s other hand away.

Beca’s still trying to formulate a response when Chloe’s mouth claims hers.

It’s not gentle or tentative; it’s hot and all-consuming and Beca opens her mouth to her tongue immediately.

She’s still moaning from the unexpected kiss when she feels her lips start to tingle.

She hadn’t considered that.

That it would transfer from Beca’s clit to Chloe’s lips (oh, my God) to Beca’s lips. But it has and it amps up her raw senses even more until she’s blindly reaching for Chloe’s hand and dragging it between her legs.

“Seriously?” Chloe laughs against her lips before flicking her tongue over Beca’s and her fingers over her clit. “God, you are amazing like this.”

“Shut up.”

“You are,” Chloe says, fingers already setting a pattern against Beca. “But I’ll shut up now.”

Beca’s nodding as she works her arm under and around Chloe so she can keep her close. “Good.”

_**The End** _


End file.
